Date: Sat, 15 Jul 2006 11:34:01 -0600
From: Kris
Subject: Night Howls part 2
************************************************************************
The wolf hurt. Every muscle in his body throbbed; thirst raged down
his throat like a forest fire, but he had no strength to crawl to the
river. And he was cold, so very cold. He was dying and soon there'd be one
less ancient creature to roam the Earth. He thought of the red one, his
size, his smell, and the timbre of his voice. He was pleased to have saved
the red one: one could die for far stupider reasons.
************************************************************************
Cherie led us in a winding path through the woods above the cabin,
deeper into the hills than we had wandered on our own. The wolf was hunting
for a safe place to lie and wait for his injuries to heal. Or a place to
lie and wait for... I refused to finish that thought. I would find him! And
I would save him! The deeper we penetrated into the trees, the more often I
had to jump off Pelka and maneuver the sled through a tight spot or
untangle it from snow laden brush. There was less snow this far into the
woods, but more ice as I discovered to my distress.
The trees opened up and revealed a small creek. I was sure it was
the same one I was familiar with that ran near the cabin. It had been
almost dry before the snow had fallen and now it was just a narrow ribbon
of ice. Cherie whined piteously and ran around in circles: she had lost the
wolf's trail. I walked downstream and then up but there was no sign of the
wolf.
"C'mon then," I said. "We'd better cross."
Stepping carefully over ice and rocks, I led Pelka across the
creek. One of the sled's runners scraped against a rock with a screeching
noise that ran down my frayed nerves like electricity. I shuddered and
clenched my teeth and hands. Cherie whined mournfully at me, unable to
locate the wolf's trail. I gazed upstream and then down, but couldn't see
anything. Stamping my feet in frustration, I decided to walk a little way
up stream and take a look for myself. Cherie ran besides me as I trudged
along the edge of the creek feeling scared and helpless. There was no sign
of blood or wolf tracks and after about 500 feet the creek hooked sharply
around a thicket. The thicket showed no signs of anything as large as a
wolf having pushed its way into it. I swore softly and turned around.
Pelka neighed at me when I returned to her side; I stroked her neck
and leaned against her, after a minute or two of comfort, I pushed away
from her and headed downstream. Cherie ran in front of me and off to the
side, back and forth, forward and back, side to side. Suddenly she stopped
a good 300 yards or so down from me, and started barking wildly. I ran as
fast as I could in the deep snow and when I caught up to her, I stopped in
horror. The wolf had apparently tried to climb a small rise and had
fallen. The snow was swept down the rise as if a large body had slid down
it. The snow was streaked with blood and couple clumps of fur. My stomach
rolled over again and I covered my mouth with a gloved hand.
"Holy mother, oh God," I mumbled into my glove.
My knees wobbled as I approached the slide. This close I could see
the marks of a heavy body clawing its way up the low slope. I blinked in
confusion because it looked as if a person had dragged itself up the
rise. The only thing I could figure is perhaps the wolf's hindquarters had
given out and he had used his front legs to drag himself up the small
hill. Tears burned in my eyes.
I ran, stumbling and falling a couple times, back to Pelka and
snatched up the reins. My agitation must have communicated itself to her,
because she moved as quick as she could, through the snow and pulling the
sled, after me.
We skirted the slippery slope, climbing through the undisturbed
snow and found the wolf's tracks at the top of the rise, heading deep into
the woods again. Relief flooded through me; I had been certain I would find
a carcass at the top of the rise. I climbed back on Pelka and took off
after Cherie. At one point the trail led up to a thicket and I was
contemplating whether I wanted to try pushing into it and risk a pain
maddened wolf 's defenses, when I heard Cherie barking from the other
side. I urged Pelka around the tangle of low plants and found the trail on
the other side. I hopped down and studied the track. Quickly pulling off my
glove, I touched the red spot on the white ground; the blood was fresh; we
couldn't be far behind him. Perhaps he had reopened his injuries when he
started moving again with the morning.
Shading my eyes against the glare, I studied the surrounding
woods. Tall, white barked aspens were mixed with sturdy oaks and a couple
other trees I couldn't identify: in the summer it would be a cool, almost
magical place to spend an afternoon. Now it was unearthly quiet, not even
birds stirred.
"The forest is holding its breath, waiting to see what I am going
to do!" I thought, shivering. I could almost feel the eyes of the ancient
gods on me as I stood there panting in exhaustion. How far now? I wondered.
************************************************************************
The boy was cold. Cold burned through his body making pain the only
thing he could feel. Pain and thirst, he shivered and tried to find the
strength to change, but had no energy left, just getting to the den had
been a monumental effort. He gripped his legs pulling them tight against
his chest. He could hear the red one's voice. He was hallucinating. A
massive shudder ran down his body. Cold, so cold.
************************************************************************
The wolf track led up through the trees to a snow covered
meadow. The wolf had skirted the edge of the meadow and gone into the trees
again. He had stumbled and fallen a couple times on his trip around the
meadow; he was reaching the end of his strength. Pelka shied at the wolf
smell but I kept her following the trail. My heart was pounding so hard it
hurt. I was praying no other predator had also picked up the trail. I
didn't see any evidence of it but I had no illusions about my tracking
skills!
Back inside the trees, Cherie and I were standing on the edge of a
rocky area with just a light scatter of snow. The wolf's track disappeared
among the rocks and I ground my teeth in frustration. After tying Pelka's
reins to a small tree, I slung my backpack on my shoulders. I also threw a
blanket over my shoulders and grabbed my flashlight. Cherie ran ahead of me
sniffing and barking. Together we circled the clearing, looking for tracks
or any place of refuge that could handle a 100-pound wolf. Tucked up under
a couple of low pines a tree had fallen, part of the tree had rotted away,
revealing a dark cavity. I approached it with caution. Cherie sniffed at
the opening and started barking. Much to my amazement, she dug at the dirt
in front of the opening and pushed herself into the cavity. I sighed in
relief: we had found the wolf. I dropped my pack and blanket onto a patch
of rocks to keep them from getting muddy.
"Cherie," I yelled, pulling at her hindquarters. "Move your fat
butt, so I can get to him."
When I finally got Cherie out of the way, I dropped to the ground
and worked my head and shoulders into the opening in the tree. It was a
tight fit as I was bundled up in parka and sweater. I pushed my flashlight
up in front of me and flicked it on. At first I was blinded by the glare
but slowly my eyes adjusted and I was able to focus on the pale blob in
front of me. Startled I about knocked myself out rearing back. Wedged up
under the tree, just beyond my arm's reach was a naked boy!
I shot backwards out of the hole and sat up. Hugging myself, I
thought of my dreams and the face I had carved. But I'd been following a
wolf! The memory of the slide area and my feeling that someone or something
had crawled up it floated before my eyes.
"Dear God," I whispered.
************************************************************************
A bright light filled the den. The boy whimpered and pulled himself
tighter. Ancient fears ran through his mind; there was a reason his kind
hid. The red one's kind was rarely friendly to "Lirriin", as the boy's
people called themselves. The smell of the kin filled his nostrils and her
tongue lapped his cheek. He moaned softly and twisted his fingers into her
warm fur. Heat, oh blessed heat!
************************************************************************
I pulled Cherie out of the opening in the rotten tree again. She
whined and tried to crawl back in but I pushed her away. I slammed at the
rotting wood with my gloved fists opening the hole a bit more. I'm a pretty
good-sized guy and the boy I saw in there was slender and long bodied: he
could squeeze into a smaller gap than I. Squirming and pushing with my
knees, I shoved my shoulders deep under the tree until I could get a hold
of the boy. He moaned softly and his arms tightened around his legs.
"C'mon," I said softly. "You have to leave here, you'll freeze if
you stay."
The boy made a low whimpering noise reminiscent of the kind Cherie
makes. Goosebumps spread down my back and I tightened my grip on his leg
and pulled harder. Almost as if all the life had suddenly flowed out of
him, his arms relaxed and I was able to pull him towards me. I backed out
of the den slowly easing him along with me.
Outside I sat up and pulled the boy into my lap. His skin was ice
cold and for a moment I was afraid he had died on me. I felt his throat
frantically and felt the feather light whisper of a pulse. Relief flowed
through me and I dropped my head down to touch the top of his head. There
was an acrid dog like smell about him. I raised my head and took a good
look at him. Along his ribs were three deep gashes, one of which had
started bleeding, and another couple gashes on one of his hips. His
shoulders and back were a mess of small scratches and bites. I stared in
shock at him; his injuries perfectly mimicked those of the wolf! But my
mind refused to accept the evidence of my eyes: how could he be the wolf?
It was impossible!
I tipped his head toward me and almost dropped him. Cradled in my
hand was the face that had been haunting my dreams, and I knew that those
eyes, if they opened, would be honey gold in color. My breath was ragged
and I closed my eyes tightly. When I opened them, the boy was still there
in my lap. A fragile looking, dark haired boy with an elfin face and a
strong jaw, and very, very blue skin. The boy was nearing hypothermia if he
wasn't already deep in its grasp. I was petrified. I was certain I couldn't
get him to a hospital quick enough to save him. And even if I could, would
it be the right thing to do? Instinct told me that would not be a good
place for this boy.
Carefully cradling him I stood up. He neither moved nor made any
sound; he hung limp in my arms. I caught up my blanket and pack with the
hand supporting his legs, and walked carefully across the clearing to the
sled. Cherie was glued to my leg making small mournful cries. Carefully
holding the boy with one arm and balancing him on my leg, I spread a couple
blankets on the bottom of the sled. I had to get the boy's body temperature
up: he'd never survive the trip back to the cabin if I didn't.
Wrapping him in the blankets wouldn't do it and I hadn't thought to
bring the small camp stove from the utility room. I had expected to deal
with a fur-covered wolf, not a slender naked boy! The only really warm
thing I had was myself. I took a deep breath and peeled out of my parka,
sweater and undershirt. The cold bit at my back and chest, tightening my
nipples and making goose bumps run wild across my back and arms. I shivered
and wrapped one of the warm woolen blankets around my shoulders. I took
another deep breath and unhooked my jeans and peeled them down to the tops
of my boots. I was now nearly naked in the middle of a frozen forest. What
would my mother say!
I covered the boy with my body, careful not to put to much weight
on him, offering up to him the warmth of my body. I pulled the last blanket
up over us and tucked it under his head. His hair was soft and silky to the
touch and my heart beat a bit faster. The edge of the blanket raised up and
Cherie struggled to climb into the sled. I pulled her in squeezing her up
against the boy and tucking the blanket under her. Together we would warm
him.
But would my body be enough I worried. I wished I knew more about
first aid. I was sure Dan would know what to do but I had no way of
contacting him. Frantically I scoured the far reaches of my brain searching
for any stray piece of information that could be applied to the
situation. Distantly, I remembered a first aid course I had taken in junior
high school.
"Friction," I whispered. I pulled the unconscious boy closer and
started to rub his arms and legs. His skin was so cold to the touch and I
wrestled with panic again.
"No," I told myself firmly. "I will save this boy. Then he can tell
just what the heck is going on!"
Firmly and rapidly I rubbed the boy's arms and legs, trying to
chafe some heat back into his skin. Cherie grumbled and I paused long
enough to scratch her ears a bit. The boy's body was long and lean with
flat, hard stomach muscles. His butt was almost nonexistent and his legs
were pure muscle. There was a light covering of pale hair on his body,
darkening to tawny on his chest and groin. A pretty child, he looked to be
no more than 17. Again my mind refused to accept the obvious explanation of
how he came to be curled up in a wolf's den slowly freezing to death.
After several minutes, I was starting to feel hot and sweaty and
his skin had lost some of its deathly pallor. I popped my head out from
under the blanket and watched my breath float off into the trees. Pelka
neighed and twisted her head around. Poor girl she was probably tired of
just standing there waiting for us to return home.
Cold air wormed its way under the blanket and soon I was
shivering. Concerned about the sweat causing a chill, I hurriedly
dressed. But not before wrapping the boy up as tight as I could in the
blankets. Cherie stretched out along the side of the sled and laid her chin
on the boy's chest. She would guard him while I led Pelka home. Pelka
tossed her head and neighed loudly when I approached her. She shied away
and almost stumbled in the harness. I was puzzled: it was as if she was
afraid of me.
"Pelka," I said softly, "easy girl, easy, its me Joash."
But she wouldn't let me touch her. I was puzzling it out when I
heard a voice behind me.
"It's the wolf, she smells him on you."
I turned sharply and looked down at the sled. The boy's eyes were
open and he was watching me warily. His eyes were the color of honey and
flecked with darker brown. There was something deep and wild in them and
for a minute I was scared. The boy blinked.
"Thank you," he said softly and his eyes closed.
I jumped forward and laid my hand against his neck. His pulse was
there but his skin was cooling down again. I had to get him back to the
cabin and fast! Sprinting toward Pelka's head, I grabbed her reins and
started back through the trees before she knew what was happening. Wolf
smell or no wolf smell she had little choice but to follow me.
Hunger was starting to gnaw at me and as I walked I munched some of
the food I'd thrown in my pack. I was worried about the boy and scared of
what I may have gotten myself into, but I was determined to see it through
to its conclusion.
Dusk was beginning to fall as we approached the creek. Fear creeped
up my back as I studied our trail across the creek and the low iron colored
clouds on the far horizon. I doubted that anyone of us would survive a
night out in a storm, especially not the boy.
"C'mon Pelka," I said pulling her reins. "Let's get home before
that hits."
Pelka needed no urging and quickly crossed the creek. I helped
steady the sled and keep it from jostling the boy too much. My faulty
memory seemed to remember that too much shaking up could be dangerous to a
hypothermia victim or maybe it was the remnants of too much TV as a kid. No
matter what the emergency they always seemed to be insisting on not jarring
the victim. I took a deep breath and pressed on through the darkening
trees.
************************************************************************
The boy was floating. He felt warmth and softness and smelled
canine scent close by. He tried to move but his arms were pinned down. For
a moment he panicked, but then he heard the red one's voice nearby. He
smiled and remembering the feel of the red one's arms around him, drifted
off again.
************************************************************************
We arrived at the house just short of full dark. The leafless oak
in the front yard looked eerily like a skeletal hand clawing at the black
sky. The cat's enraged scream and the squeal of the wolf hitting the ground
echoed in my head and I shivered. The porch steps were slippery. I picked
my way to the top and then shook ice melt from the bag by the door, down
over them. The inside of the cabin was cool, I dared not leave the oil
heater on when I wasn't there, but it was warmer than outside. I started up
the heater and built a fire in the fireplace.
The cold outside was getting sharp: tiny splinters of cold pierced
my eyes, nose and throat. The boy would never have made it through another
night in that cold den. I shook my head- wolf, boy, what was he? Cherie was
sitting by the sled waiting for me. I scratched her ears and thanked her
for her assistance. Carefully, I picked the boy up. He was sleeping or
unconscious, I thought with a twinge of fear and carried him in and laid
him in front of the fireplace. I dithered anxiously, hopping from one foot
to the other, should I take care of him first or Pelka. I finally decided
on Pelka, she had been out all day with almost nothing to eat and had
pulled a load most of the day.
I doubt I had ever attended to her so thoroughly or so quickly
prior to this evening, but I was anxious to return to the boy. In record
time, I had her brushed, fed and settled in her stall. She neighed and
bucked me with her head. I scratched her ears, and then hugged her neck.
"Thank you for your hard work," I said softly. "And for putting up
with the strangeness of humans." She whickered softly and I grinned.
I sprinted carefully up to the cabin after locking up the barn. The
battle area was frozen and covered with the tiny prints of scavengers. I
shivered feeling my stomach roll over and hurried the rest of the way to
the cabin. Cherie met me at the door with a wag of her tail and a worried
sounding whine. I stripped out of my parka and sweatshirt leaving them in
an uncharacteristic heap on the floor by the couch. I dropped to my knees
and carefully felt the boy's cheek and throat.
He wasn't as cold as he had been at the den, but I didn't like his
color either. He was terribly pale and I silently cursed my ignorance. I
jerked to my feet and stomped into the kitchen. I needed coffee to clear my
head. Leaning back against the window opposite the stove, I sipped my cup
thoughtfully. There was a small shelf above the stove with a handful of
cookbooks, wedged in between a pair of oil lamps. Idly I read the titles
out loud.
"The Outdoorsman's Cookbook, Grilling Made Easy, Cooking Over an
Open Fire, Easy First Aid, The Connoisseur's Guide to Dutch Oven
Cooking.. Wait a freakin' minute!"
I nearly dropped my cup. Squeezed in between two cookbooks was a
first aid manual! I crossed the small room in two long strides and yanked
the book off the shelf. It was battered and torn, but I didn't care. At the
moment, it was the most wonderful thing I'd ever seen. Shakily I flipped to
the section on hypothermia and scanned the information.
"I need to warm him up gradually," I murmured. "Okay how? Oh I see,
a lukewarm bath and then slowly warm it up. Wonder if the hot water heater
will manage."
I scanned the room thoughtfully. I had it! There were two Dutch
ovens in the utility room. I'd heat water in them or snow if need be, but
something. I read as I walked down the hallway to the utility room. I need
to get moisture in him, it said; a hot steamy bath was great.
"Damn! The fire is only heating up his outside and making the
hypothermia worse!" I read. Tucking the book under my arm, I practically
ran up the hall to the living room. Carefully, I peeled off several of the
blankets and carried the boy, Cherie at my heels, to the bathroom and laid
him on the rug. I turned on the faucet, the water was very cold at first
but quickly warmed up filling the room with steam. I consulted the book
again and turned the temperature down.
When the water was slightly cooler than body temperature, I
unwrapped the boy and lifted him into the tub. His body jerked as the water
touched him and a loud gasp escaped his lips. Scared, I supported his head
against the edge of the tub and slowly waved water up his chest. The boy's
breath was coming out in ragged gasps. I didn't like that sound and dug
deep into my memory. I couldn't remember all of my CPR but I remembered a
little about mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
The first aid book said that breath was a good way to warm the
interior of a hypothermia victim as well as get moisture back into them. I
cradled his head carefully and tipped it back. Pinching his nose shut, I
leaned down and pressed my lips to his, blowing breath into him. His lips
were firm and chilly at first, but they gradually warmed up. I raised my
head and looked at him. His eyes were still closed but color was returning
to his face.
Carefully supporting his body so he wouldn't slide under the water,
I pulled the plug so some of the cold would run out. I turned the water on
again; it was a little warmer this time. The boy shuddered slightly and
sucked in a breath. Again I gave him mouth-to-mouth, feeling oddly excited
at the touch of his lips against mine.
I ran a hand down his belly enjoying the feel of his muscles and
the soft hair that covered his body. I wasn't sure why I was enjoying it
but I was, and much to my embarrassment I realized I was getting
hard. Gently I felt his pulse; it was stronger this time. I sighed in
relief.
Two more times I changed the water and gave him mouth-to-mouth. By
this time I was hard as a rock and aching. Not to mention being deeply
puzzled by my reaction to the boy. This was the face that I had been seeing
in my dreams: fine boned and pretty, but how did all this relate to the
wolf that had saved my life the night before? And why was I, a divorced,
straight man getting a hard on from a 17 yr old boy's body? I thought of
Ava as I ministered to the boy, she was small and delicate as well. She,
too, had an air of something more than just an ordinary human. I was
puzzled and quite disturbed by my reaction.
The water in the tub was dirty and streaked with blood from his
injuries. Carefully I drained it out again and started running fresh
water. Softly I washed the lacerations with soap, watching dirt and bits of
forest debris float off into the water. Infection was a real fear and I was
relieved to see color returning to his toes and fingers. I had been
worrying about frostbite.
************************************************************************
The boy was floating in warmth. Something touched his mouth,
something soft and sweet tasting. He started to respond, it had been so
long since he had been kissed. Suddenly on a wave of heat, he was jarred
back into his body. He was in water and there were hands on him; violent
images of a past not quite forgotten cascaded through his head. He heard
cries of fear and pleas for help. He heard the whining of cublings and the
splash of water. He smelled blood and fire. His eyes flew open not
recognizing the place he found himself. He lurched into a sitting position
and his hand gripped the wrist that was pressing his chest down. His
fingers dug into the tender skin and he snarled his anger. The human cried
out: it was the red one. The boy closed his eyes and shook his head to
clear it. The red one's eyes were there when he opened them again. So
close, so warm, he'd never seen eyes that color of blue before and he was
fascinated. They were blue like a field of snow and filled with tears.
************************************************************************
The boy's body heaved and thrashed in the water. A low snarl
slipped through his lips. I shifted my weight trying to keep his head up
out of the water and steady his chest. I was terrified. Was he having a
seizure? Had the hypothermia gone too far before I got him home?
The boy's eyes flew open, wide and unfocused: wild, fierce and
completely inhuman. He jerked upright and his hand flew out and locked on
my wrist in an action, almost too fast for me to see, his fingers digging
into the tender flesh between the bones. His lips curled back in a growl
and his teeth, I saw for the first time, were sharp with pronounced
canines. I cried out in pain. I have very strong hands and wrists from
carving, but the boy's grip brought tears to my eyes.
The boy froze. I had never seen a human be so still. He closed his
eyes and bowed his head. He shook his head sharply and raised it
again. Gold eyes opened and looked deep into my own. This time they were
focused and clear. The animal, the wolf, was gone. His tongue peeked out
from between his lips and he ran it slowly across them. He let go of my
wrist and his hand dropped into the water with an audible splash.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. His voice was harsh but there was a
lyrical lilt to it that made me think of a Scots Irish accent.
"It's okay. I guess I'd be disoriented too if I were in your
place," I said, gripping the side of the tub.
He shifted into a more comfortable position and looked at me. His
eyes were appraising and he studied me intently.
"Why?"
"You saved my life," I said. "I mean that was you wasn't it? The
huge timber wolf."
The boy nodded solemnly. Heavy black hair, lightly streaked with
silver fell forward, blocking my view of his face. He looked up at me again
and reached up and laid his hand on mine.
"Thank you," he said softly.
I stared at his hand on mine, feeling water stream across it. Water
that started out warm and turned cold after a few moments. My heart was
pounding with a ferocity I hardly recognized and there was a roaring in my
ears. My cock jerked in my jeans begging to be released and relieved. I
swallowed nervously. A wolf howl echoed through my head.
"What are you?" I whispered.
"Lirriin," he answered, "one of the ancient shape changing peoples
of the Earth."
I shook my head, trying to clear it. Was I really kneeling in
Jake's bathroom looking at a creature out of mythology? Werewolves don't
exist, I told myself stubbornly. But I had the evidence sitting in front of
me. The golden eyed boy with three lacerations on his ribs, the middle one
bleeding a little, more lacerations on his hip and back: all the same
places the cougar had clawed the wolf.
I stood up abruptly and pulled a large, soft towel off the rack on
the door. I held it awkwardly in my hands for a minute before reaching out
a hand to the boy. It was the wrist he had clenched earlier: there were
already bruises coming out on it. He took my hand and let me help him up
and out of the tub. Standing up, I discovered he was smaller than I had
thought, maybe 5'5" or 6".
The boy's hands were long and delicate as were his feet. I took a
quick peek at this cock, remembering my high school friends' insistence
that long hands and feet meant a long cock. The boy's wasn't particularly
long but it was round and plump. I blushed, suddenly embarrassed and
unwilling to admit that I wanted to caress it. The boy quirked an eyebrow
at me thoughtfully. Could he read my mind? I blushed again and hurriedly
handed him the towel; then made my escape down the hall to the relative
safety of the kitchen.
************************************************************************
The boy studied the half closed door through which the red one had
disappeared. He scowled and growled low in his throat. The red one had been
aroused; the boy could smell it. The earthy, musky scent of a sexually
mature male had always attracted the boy/wolf. He kicked at the blanket
lying in a heap on the floor. Why couldn't Lirriin attract him as much as
short-lived humans? He wrapped the soft towel around himself, wondering
again how the red one's arms would feel around him. Humans were puzzling
creatures; they wanted all the wrong things and denied themselves the good
things that made life worth living.
************************************************************************
I was leaning against the sink and sipping my coffee when the boy
appeared in the doorway. He was wrapped in the towel. He stood silent
watching me and I fidgeted nervously under the intensity of his gaze.
"You left," he said, his voice was stronger and less hoarse.
"Yes," I answered barely audible.
He tipped his head and studied me. Suddenly he let go of the
towel. I watched it fall into a heap around his ankles. Slowly my eye
traveled up his body to return to his face. I took another sip of coffee
and choked. I coughed and cleared my throat. The boy's honey eyes never
left me.
"You are not scared," he said finally. "You know what I am and yet
you aren't afraid." He paused. "You are embarrassed of.." His hand made a
sweeping motion across his front.
I swallowed and nodded, feeling stupid. I was sure I was in over my
head and I scoured my memory for the old legends about werewolves. But
everything I could think of was Hollywood and this boy was most definitely
not Hollywood.
"Bah," he snarled. "Stupidity, a bullet will kill me same as it
will you if it hits something vital. I can die of starvation, injury, cold,
drowning.." He scowled briefly.
"I owe you an apology," he went on. "I was sure I was being drowned
when I regained consciousness. I would not have hurt you otherwise."
He looked down and then back up at me. The boy took a step
forward. His knees wobbled and he started to fall and in one smooth leap, I
set my cup on the table and crossed the kitchen to catch him. Again I held
his long naked body in my arms, he grasped my T-shirt and his head lay
against my shoulder.
************************************************************************
The boy felt the lightness start in his head and flow down his back
into his legs, like standing under a springtime waterfall. He knew he was
going to fall but he couldn't Change to stop the fall. He wasn't certain he
had the energy to make the Change and he was certain that the red one would
NEVER accept the reality of having a Lirriin Change in his kitchen. The boy
felt himself swung up into the air and smelled the red one's overpowering
scent. He felt the red one's arms around him: hard and strong. The smooth
cotton of the big man's shirt rubbed against the boy's body and he
remembered the feel of skin on skin, smooth and sliding. The boy clutched
the material in one hand and leaned into the red one's arms: memorizing the
feel and strength of his arms.
************************************************************************
Smoothing back the heavy damp hair from his face, I had the urged
to kiss him. Instead I carried him into the living room and laid him on the
couch. Cherie followed me fussing anxiously. She licked his face and he put
his hands up to protect himself from her ministrations. I chuckled softly
and tucked one of the discarded blankets around him.
"I will get it all bloody," he said.
"No matter," I answered shrugging. "I'll wash it. You need the
warmth." I scowled at him. "You very nearly died out there, you realize
that, don't you?"
He nodded. "I was sure I would go to my ancestors tonight. But
perhaps it isn't my time yet, after all." He turned his head toward the
back of the couch and closed his eyes.
I watched him for several moments but his breathing was steady and
his color strong. Now he needed rest and food, I would worry about food
when he woke up. Snorting with laughter at the plastic container of dog
chow I had stuffed in my pack that morning, I tiptoed down the hall to the
bathroom. The bathtub needed cleaning and to keep my hands occupied and my
mind busy, I cleaned it.
But it was no use; I was powerfully attracted to the boy. I hadn't
thought much about boys or been attracted to males since I entered my
teens. Even then I hadn't been terribly upset by it, they had been just
friends. At about 13 or 14, my attention had shifted to girls and I had
married Ava at 20. Even though my marriage had failed, it hadn't been
because of sex, which perhaps, had prolonged it several weeks or even
months. I bundled the cleaning supplies back under the sink. I didn't know
what to think or even what to feel but I knew that I would do everything in
my power to take care of the boy. And to bring him back to health. I
stopped in the bedroom and picked up another blanket to put on the boy.
When I returned to the living room I noticed that the fire was
burning low and that my wood supply inside the house was also low. I
bundled up and went out into the cold night. My breath puffed out and
floated off into the night like tiny ghosts. I shivered on the porch
looking out into the yard. Was it really less than 24 hours ago that the
cougar and the wolf had been struggling against each other and against the
cold and hunger that had forced the cat into my yard? I made a wide swing
around the battle site on my way to the woodpile.
I scooped up as much wood as I could carry and still see to walk
back to the house. Carefully I negotiated the still slick stairs and pushed
the door open with one booted foot. The cabin was still and pleasantly
warm. I dropped the wood into the box by the fireplace. The clatterof the
wood striking the box seemed extraordinarily loud in the quiet cabin and I
whirled around expecting to see the boy wide-awake, but he hadn't moved. I
made two more trips to the woodpile to make sure we had enough wood for
awhile.
With a little maneuvering and a couple burned fingers, I rigged a
way to put the cast iron Dutch oven in the fireplace for a homemade
humidifier. Soon steam was trickling out into the living room. I smiled
satisfied; the first aid manual had said that moist heat would get moisture
back into him and help heat up his core temperature. A quick peek under the
blankets revealed a smear of blood across the boy's belly and the
blanket. I shivered and tucked the blankets back around him; he needed
sleep more right now. We'd tend to the wound when he woke up, but for now
it wasn't bleeding enough to get upset over.
My tummy suddenly growled and I realized I hadn't hardly eaten
anything since morning and most of that I'd thrown up anyway. I left the
boy with a backwards glance; he was still sleeping, and went to scare up
some food for Cherie and I.
I was curled up on the loveseat, reading a mystery when the boy
woke up. He had been asleep for about two hours; it was nearly 9:00 pm. I
had been out and settled Pelka for the night and done a quick walk around,
brought more wood in, but nothing seemed to be stirring this evening. He
shifted and sat up. He looked pale but not the deathly pallor of several
hours ago. I set my book down and watched him.
"You have left me here," he said softly.
"Yes, you can stay as long as you like. You have been very close
here for months anyway," I answered, "in your guise of a wolf."
He smiled and blushed a bit. It was a charming look and terribly
young one for someone I suspected of being very old - being very, very old
indeed.
"I'm Joash or did you know that already?" I said with a smile.
He shook his head. His eyes flicked sideways, then returned to me.
"Call me Alyosha, of all the things I have been called in my life
that one is my favorite."
"Al-YO-sha," I repeated. "Sounds Russian. Are you Russian then?"
He shrugged; then shook his head. "I was born somewhere around
where Greece is today. But that was long ago, even before it was called
Macedonia the first time."
"You mean you're two THOUSAND years old!" I squeaked in surprise.
He looked into the fire and I wondered what he was seeing. I
shivered Macedonia was unified by Philip the Great in the mid 4th century
B.C. and Alyosha was saying he was even older than that! He looked me, his
eyes dark and shadowed.
"Time is a human obsession, not a Lirriin one. We only feel the
passage of seasons and the death and birth of our pack mates. I have been
the wolf..." His voice petered out and he shook his head again. "Sometimes
I think something happened the day before and other times I know it was
long ago. I am hurt now and I bleed. The wound will give me a track to
remember when the fight with the cat was. But then when its healed I may
forget when it was, but I will remember it was here. It was for you."
Alyosha gazed at me, his golden honey eyes glittering in the dim
lamplight. Shadows cast by the fire flickered across his face and again I
saw the shifting boy/wolf face of my dreams. I shivered and hugged myself.
"I should be the one saying 'Thank you'," I whispered. "I just
wonder why?"
Alyosha looked down at his hands, kneading the edge of the blanket
and then up at me. His gold eyes radiated love with such force that I was
literally knocked back against the loveseat. I tried to look away but his
gaze held me rapt. I sucked in my breath.
"I watched you move in. There was something about the way you
moved, the sound of your voice, your scent," he blushed again. "I haven't
felt The Change in me in-" he shrugged as his voice tapered off.
"The Change?"
"Now," he said sweeping his hand down his front again. "This, my
humanlike form, I have been a wolf a very long time. But you made me want
to change."
"Oh," I said feeling at a loss for words.
The boy leaned forward, placing his hands flat on the couch and
pulling his feet up under his body. He studied me; then tipped his head
sideways and smiled. Suddenly he leaped toward me. The movement was so
smooth, graceful and sudden that I just stared at him. Now I understood how
a predator could transfix a prey animal. The boy landed easily on the
loveseat. He squatted in from of me balancing easily. Alyosha smiled and
ran his tongue across his lips again.
I opened my mouth to speak but never got any words out. Alyosha
leaned forward and kissed me - hard. His hands gripped my shoulders; I
pulled back trying to break loose. It wasn't that I didn't want to kiss
him; I just didn't like this feeling of being attacked. My butt slipped and
I fell off the loveseat, narrowly missing hitting my head on the end
table. Alyosha slammed down on top of me with a loud grunt followed by a
sob of pain.
"You okay?" I asked.
He made a soft whining sound. Cherie nosed him and made the same
noise. I struggled to a sitting position and cradled him in my arms. The
fall had opened the deep cut on his ribs and it was bleeding hard. Blood
was streaked down my T-shirt.
"Damn," I said.
Alyosha pressed his hand to his side and whimpered again. His head
was bowed and blood leaked from between his fingers. I shifted him off my
lap and sprinted for my pack in the bedroom. Alyosha was still sitting,
head down, on the floor when I returned with the first aid kit. I knelt in
front of him and opened it.
"Alyosha," I said softly.
He didn't answer; just continued to make the soft whimpering
noises. Gently I grasped his hand and tried to pull it away from his
ribs. His head snapped up and he snarled at me. I had no doubt, looking at
his teeth, that they could do a lot of damage.
"Alyosha!" I yelped. "It's me, Joash!"
He stopped and stared at me. I was shaking and not sure I liked
having a pain maddened wolf boy, who was in love with me, under my
roof. But I didn't see any other alternatives. His eyes focused on me and
he sucked in a breath.
************************************************************************
Alyosha, he reminded himself to answer to that name, gazed at the
red one. Names meant little to him, he knew the human by his scent - musky
and masculine. He had made a mistake, moved too fast, and scared the big
man. He had forgotten that humans were in the habit of regularly ignoring
their instincts and denying their desires, Lirriin lived for the now, for
the moment. He knew the red one was aroused; he could smell it; he could
practically taste it when the big man got near him. He had reacted as a
wolf and now he was hurt.
Joash, the name sounded as warm and masculine as the man possessing
it, was watching him: fear and concern warring on his face. Again he was
fascinated by the color of the human's eyes; he wanted the red one very
badly with an ache that threatened to rip him apart. He whimpered softly.
************************************************************************
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his face hidden by his hair.
I tipped his head up and rubbed his chin with my thumb. "It's okay;
you have been through quite a lot in the last day or so. It's bound to
knock anyone's reactions out of whack. But I need to take care of that
cut."
He nodded, leaned back and dropped his hand into his lap. Quickly I
cleaned up the lacerations and disinfected them. Alyosha swore softly in a
language I didn't understand. I decided against taping the dressing to him
because of the soft hair on his body, instead I wrapped it tightly with
gauze and tied it securely. By the time I finished, he was shivering and
pale again.
I helped him back up onto the couch and tucked him in under the
blanket. Had I even been willing, there was no way he was up to a
boisterous evening of sex. He huddled under the blanket shivering; his eyes
looked huge against the paleness of his face. I was afraid again, afraid of
the effects of hypothermia on his alien physiology. He needed heat inside
him as well as outside; I added some more water to the Dutch oven.
"Tea," I thought suddenly. "Or broth. Yeah, broth, he is a
carnivore after all."
I snickered nervously at the last thought and headed for the
kitchen. A cup of hot coffee for myself and a mug of tea for the boy was
just what the doctor ordered! While the water heated up I went to the
bathroom and cleaned up, then to the bedroom to change into a clean
sweatshirt. I tucked another sweatshirt into my waistband for the
boy. Alyosha, I thought as I added some bullion to a mug of hot water, a
pretty name for a pretty boy. Somehow I juggled all three mugs and the
shirt into the living room without spilling or dropping any of them.
Alyosha opened his eyes as I came around the edge of the couch. I
smiled at him and he smiled in return. I squatted down in front of him and
offered him the mug of tea. He sat up and took it with a smile. He breathed
in the steam and the rich tea flavor.
"Mmm, there are a few things you humans do very well," he said.
"Oh really?" I grinned at him. "Like tea?"
"And sex," he said grinning impishly.
I choked and started coughing again. Alyosha reached over and
pounded on my back.
"I will never understand you humans. You can talk about killing
with all the casualness of discussing a sunset, but mention sex and
everyone disappears!" He shook his head and took another sip of his
tea. "But don't worry; I won't jump on you again. I forgot - I won't do it
again."
"Forgot? Forgot what?" I asked softly, watching him over the rim of
my cup.
"Forgot you aren't Lirriin; I followed the wolf," he frowned into
his mug.
"Oh," I said swallowing nervously, "well umm, it's okay. Just
startled me, you know."
He studied me then shrugged. He shivered suddenly almost slopping
his tea. I took the cup out of his hands and set it down on the hearth. I
pulled the shirt out of my waistband and pulled it over his head. His dark
head popped through the neck hole grinning at me. I stroked his cheek; it
was soft and warm. I shivered. Alyosha cocked his head.
"Oh finish dressing," I said. "I have some beef broth for you."
"Mmm, I prefer venison or rabbit," he grinned.
"I've read about wolves, I KNOW what you eat!"
He shrugged and pushed his hands through the sleeves of the
shirt. The shirt was, as I suspected, huge on him and he looked strangely
out of place, like an exotic bird in a rusty cage, sitting there on my
couch. I wanted to kiss him and hold him close and keep him safe.
"Then why don't you?" Alyosha asked softly.
"I- I can't," I said.
"You want to," he said.
"Yes," I whispered. "But I can't."
He sighed, "I just don't understand, you humans. Your," he searched
for a word, "reasons for what you do are backwards. You need to run more,
feel the wind and your feet pound the ground, you'd be a lot more relaxed."
"I came here to relax, to get away from pain," I said, handing him
the mug of broth.
He nodded. "I felt it, watching you the first day. Even a human
could have felt it. But to me it was like the roar of a waterfall and then
the calm of the river. Cities are not good for anyone, even humans."
He scowled into his mug and sipped his broth. I was intrigued by
the age in his eyes and the youth in his face. For several minutes neither
of us spoke, we just sipped our drinks and listened to the crackle of the
fire.
I broke the silence with a jaw-wrenching yawn. Alyosha nodded, his
eyes were heavy as well, despite having slept on and off most of the day. I
suspected the hypothermia was going to lay him low for several days. I
pried his fingers off the mug and carried it to the kitchen. A quick rinse
out of the coffee pot and mugs and I returned to the living room.
Alyosha was not on the couch and the front door was open. For a
moment I panicked; had he run off into the woods? I sprinted across the
floor and stopped at the door. Alyosha was standing, hands resting on the
porch rail, looking out toward the woods. I leaned on the doorframe and
just watched him. Cherie leaned against my leg.
Even in my oversized yellow sweatshirt, he looked wild, a creature
of the night. He threw his head back, the heavy hair falling back away from
his face letting light from the house illuminate his delicate features. A
howl burst from his throat and echoed through the night. The hairs on the
back of my neck stood up and I hugged myself. The howl faded out into the
night.
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Alyosha listened to the night. He was at home in the night; he
belonged to the night. And more importantly tonight he was deliriously
happy. Not only was he near the red one, Joash, he reminded himself, but
Joash hadn't run from him in fear. His nostrils were full of the red one's
scent and the blood in his body thundered to the feel of his arms around
Alyosha; and the taste of Joash's lips against his own.
Alyosha threw his head back and howled his happiness to the
night. The howl echoed deep into the mountains and not only conveyed his
happiness but informed the other denizens of the forest that he was still
very much alive!
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Alyosha pushed off the rail and started towards the stairs. I
jumped forward and grabbed his arm. He whirled around, his eyes snapping in
the half-light.
"Where are you going? You'll freeze out there!" I said louder than
I had intended.
He looked at me. "I need to piss," he said with a puzzled look.
"Well, criminy, do that in the bathroom. There's a toilet in
there!"
"Toilet?" He said cocking his head at me again. I stared at him in
surprise and he sighed.
"Joash," he grasped my arm gently. "I have been the wolf for a very
long time. I can't tell you how long because I don't know. But it's been a
long time."
Alyosha's face was shadowed as he contemplated the years. I slid my
arm through his grasp until we were holding hands. His long, strong fingers
curled around my hand and he stepped out of the shadows smiling.
"Show me these things," he said. "Teach me about this new world I
almost missed."
I smiled and pulled him to me. I wasn't sure why I was attracted to
the boy, but I knew he felt good in my arms. I also knew that I liked him
there, it felt strangely right. Cherie jumped up and licked Alyosha. He
caught her front paws and gave a short yip, which she answered with another
face washing. He let go of her paws and laughed. The laughter rippled
through the air into the hills; following the howl into the night.
November 11, 2004
revised July 13, 2006